Laceration
by Elendraug
Summary: Stan, why are you so mad? [ Slash. Stan Kyle. ]


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Laceration

By StarWolf

12/10/2003

Title: Laceration

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Author: StarWolf (elendraug@yahoo.com)

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Fandom: South Park

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Rating: PG-13

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Warnings: Slash, some language

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Pairing: Stan/Kyle, implied Stan/Wendy

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Genre: Angst

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Disclaimer: Trey Parker and Matt Stone own _South Park_ and its characters, not me. I'm not making money with this story, just the usual "anti-slash" enemies.

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Distribution: Don't take it, please. It's not that great, anyway.

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Summary: Stan, why are you so mad?

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Authoress' Notes: "Raisins" has too many great opportunities to pass up. Just an angst-ficlet that I wrote instead of being productive.

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"Come on, Stan, we're going to play dodge ball." Kyle's voice cut through the air and Stan's thoughts, jolting him back to reality with a stunned response.

"I can't believe it. She's in love with somebody else." He gazed unfalteringly at the grey-green ceiling tiles.

"Dude, you need to snap out of this. So Wendy left you for Token. What are you going to do, just be miserable your whole life?" Kyle asked.

"There's nothing else I can do. She _was _my whole life," Stan sighed despondently.

Kyle's tone grew more agitated. "Oh, come on, dude. All you've done for the last four days is mope around. You might as well go hang out with those Goth kids who dress in black and talk about pain all the time."

"Maybe I should. At least they would understand me. Maybe I should go hang with the Goth kids."

"Or maybe you could just hang out with us. With Kenny, and with Cartman, and with me."

"Or maybe I won't."

Kyle shot him a pained look, but Stan didn't see it. Apparently, the other boy still found the ceiling to me more interesting than this conversation. "Look, Stan, just realize that there truly _are_ other girls besides Wendy. Hell, I'm sure that there are _plenty _of girls who would kill to go out with you!"

Silence.

"What, you don't believe me?"  
  
"No."

"If you gave everyone else a chance and opened up your mind a bit, you'd see what I mean. You have to stop fixating on Wendy so much. It's over, dude. It's over."

"I don't want anyone else."

"Shit, Stan, there are probably _guys_ out there who would date you!" Kyle declared, his voice raised in aggravation.

Stan, sitting up to look at Kyle for the first time during this discussion, raised an eyebrow. "Like who?" Sarcasm laced his voice like poison.

Kyle blanched and his eyes darted away from Stan's. "Er..."

"I bet you could sit here all day and not think of anyone. No one wants me, Kyle. If I'm not good enough for Wendy, I'm not good enough for anyone."

"Well, there is one person I know of who...who likes you, Stan."

"Who? Just fuckin' tell me, alright? I'm tired of thinking about this."

Lowering his gaze to the floor, Kyle hesitated, then spoke under his breath. 

"Me." 

Closing his eyes, he turned on his heel and hurried away, not wanting to wait for Stan's reaction. "I have to get to gym class."

Narrowing his brows, Stan jumped up and, securing the towel around his waist, chased after Kyle. He grabbed the Jewish' boy's arm and spun Kyle around to face him. "You can't just say that and expect me to let you run away, Kyle."

His quieted demeanor suddenly defiant, Kyle raised his chin. "What's wrong, Stan? Too afraid that someone else might actually be worth your time?" Jerking his arm away, he glared. "If you can't deal with that fact, then feel free to wallow in your own self-pity. Excuse me for trying to cheer you up, Stan. It's my fault for attempting to help my best friend." He growled and continued his path to the gymnasium.

Stan blinked at Kyle's unfazed outburst. "Kyle!" he called, fearing that his companion would soon be out of range. "Kyle, wait!"

Turning again to send an exasperated look Stan's way, he answered. "What?"

"I..."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "So _now_ you want me to listen to you, even after you've disregarded my advice, and you can't even think of what to say? Pathetic, really." He scowled. "Look at you! Standing in a locker room, wearing nothing but a towel and your hat, and whining about your ex." Stepping closer to Stan, he glared and lowered his voice. "Two words, Stan: grow up."

Stan suddenly seized Kyle's shoulders and kissed him. Kyle, who had certainly not been expecting this, froze. Almost as quickly as he'd started it, Stan pulled away and broke the kiss, and something unreadable flashed in his eyes. Blushing slightly, Kyle posed the obvious question.

"What the hell was that about?"

Stan ignored him and started to gather his clothing. Determined and irked, Kyle followed Stan and repeated himself. "I said, what the _hell_--"

"I needed to know what it felt like," Stan interrupted, pulling on his pants with his back to Kyle.

"Huh?"  
  
"I needed to know what it would feel like to kiss you, because I'm going to go kill something now. Releasing my anger, you know?"

A million thoughts flooded Kyle's confused brain, but one stood out predominantly. "Wha...wait. Who are you going to kill?"

Stan shrugged into his T-shirt and put on his jacket. As he started to leave the room, he glanced back at Kyle over his shoulder.

"Me."


End file.
